


patchwork

by mido



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gen, descriptions of murder but none too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 09:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mido/pseuds/mido
Summary: He’s never tethered himself to a lineage like All of Love has done, and doesn’t actively search for a suitable human like Old Child. But he does not murder his eves once he’s gotten tired of them (like Lawless) nor become dependent (like Sleepy Ash). He has simply remained; his power is what is desired.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was written at an amazing speed with all the feedback i got on my last one

Doubt Doubt has been the servamp of Mikuni Alicein for seven years.

He usually ends up keeping his contract with his eves for until the end of their lifespan, then resigning to becoming a wandering vampire again until he’s taken in again. He’s never tethered himself to a lineage like All of Love has done, and doesn’t actively search for a suitable human like Old Child. But he does not murder his eves once he’s gotten tired of them (like Lawless) nor become dependent (like Sleepy Ash). He has simply remained; his power is what is desired.

Mikuni is a special case. He’s never had multiple eves who were directly related, sans Mikado’s wife and son. He’s also never played a part in the death of an eve, only subclass. Jeje supposes many of his firsts have been claimed by the eldest Alicein son; more than he’d like to admit. Yet he is not resentful—these are small things, things his siblings have likely already done.

The Alicein attic was not particularly unclean. Doubt Doubt did not mind spending his time there for the eight years he did, and a few of All of Love’s subclass were happy to sneak him food leftover from dinner and stolen from the maids. On rare occasion some of them would bleed into a glass for him; a rare treat. He knows, however, the stories to maids told to the younger ones, that there was a monster in the attic that would eat them should they enter.

The older subclass were wiser, and if Jeje thinks back to them he wishes he could’ve thanked them, as he supposes they might as well be the reason he was alive, had he not been immortal.

Most of the time, he watched the moon. It was a beautiful thing, a pool of white in the sky, dripping down onto Doubt Doubt’s cheeks like tears he’d shed himself. He hadn’t covered his face often then, as most of the time there was no one to see him, his only companion the lovely lady of the night sky. He wonders now if the moon he watched then is the one he looks up to now—does she still cover her blemishes where she used to? Does she still bathe in the overbearing shadow of the sun, her love? Does she still spin, dancing as if no one can see?

Mikuni had asked him once why he watched the sky so often. Jeje had held his tongue and stayed quiet.

If he were to add together the years he spent in the Alicein mansion with the ones he’s spent with Mikuni, Doubt Doubt would say he’d been in the family for fifteen years. He’d first forged a contract with Mikado’s wife, who named him and told him he was to complete the tasks too vulgar or distasteful for All of Love. The vampire had agreed then, and only months later did he dirty his hands with the blood of Misono’s mother, a low-class maid.

He hadn’t known Mikuni then. The earliest interaction between them that Jeje can remember is when a young Alicein, seemingly only nine years old at the time, had bothered to seek out the monster of the attic he’d heard so much about from the subclass who’d visited before. Doubt Doubt had been moongazing again, bags discarded, his robe pulled snugly around his figure as if it was a security blanket. That was their first meeting: Doubt Doubt’s face pale with the wash of reflected moonlight off his skin and just barely showing a glimmer of surprise, and Mikuni’s eyes wide, hazel glittering with excitement.

He’d left as quick as he’d come, skipping down the steps back to the upstairs floor with a mischievous grin adorned upon his face like he had a secret all his own. Doubt Doubt had not expected anyone other than the few subclass he knew to bother to pay him a visit, much less his eve’s son (and unbeknownst to both of them, his future eve). But he’d dismissed the encounter without care; what harm was it to fulfill a child’s naïve curiosity?

Mikuni used to tell him of the beautiful woman in the attic, who every time he checked on, seemed to have not aged a minute since he’d seen her. Jeje supposes it’s only natural he mistook him for a lady at first, as back then his hair was still long and flowing as it is today, though secured tightly at the base of his skull. It was a little amusing, the vampire must admit, to see Mikuni’s expression when he’d removed his bags for the first time before the other. The elder Alicein refused to look at him for weeks.

It was seven years after the death of the maid that’d given birth to Misono, seven years after his contract with Mikuni’s mother, seven years of ingesting leftovers from the decadent dinners the Aliceins treated themselves to nightly, seven years of sitting along the windowsill and watching the moon in all her beauteous glory that the Alicein mistress bothered to ask anything more of him. She had grown to become strange, her movements gangly and awkward and her lips tugged up into smiles as she muttered to herself, looking up at Doubt Doubt will hopeful and bloodthirsty eyes. It was Mikuni who stopped her, rage apparent in that hazel gaze as Doubt Doubt regarded the knife in his hands, puncturing the fair skin and expensive silk of his mother’s chest. With Misono’s childhood stained along with Mikuni’s hands, the latter had offered his late mother’s necklace and a name, pulling his collar loose and forging Doubt Doubt’s second contract with the Aliceins. 

It was after his time with C3 that Mikuni decided to live alone, sans Jeje. The constant companionship Tsurugi had offered back then had become suffocating now, so much so that the elder Alicein didn’t actually let anyone know where he lived. Of course, the cordiality he had with Jeje was quite different, and the stark contrast in personality between the vampire and his former roommate only became more prominent as they spent their days alone. Yet Jeje finds himself not missing the other, not a bit.

It’s only alone in their bedroom at night, with Jeje sitting by the window with his bags placed safely on the bedside table and his hair freed from its elastic restraints does Mikuni sleep, soundly, only woken by nightmares of the warm crimson pooling out of his mother’s chest, Misono’s terrified expression as the boy gripped his hands into fists, the clattering of the knife to the polished tile—

He wakes, startling himself into sitting up. Jeje is watching him, his chin perched composedly in his palm; his hair is falling out from behind his ear where he’d tucked it. The vampire catches his frantic gaze within his calculating one—his eyes, red as his mother’s blood, hold no malice, only curiosity. “Did you dream of her?” He asks quietly.

 _Mikuni is comforted by physical contact_ echoes through Jeje’s head as Mikuni deflates, nodding and letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The former rises, gliding over from the window to their bed and nonchalantly sitting next to his eve where he’s thrown his legs over the edge of the mattress. Mikuni’s head falls onto his shoulder in the next second, and in the next Jeje has lifted his arm to wrap it loosely around his waist as his eve closes his eyes again. The vampire is not the best with comfort per se, but this much he knows how to do.

“Do you resent me?” He murmurs, unmoving as Mikuni’s eyes blink open silently. “Because of the maid.” 

Mikuni lifts his head off of Jeje’s shoulder, turning and looking at his servamp as he stares off at the city below through the window. “No.” He says carefully, following Jeje’s gaze to the stars. “My mother was to blame.”

The vampire hums as if reassuring himself, then removes his arm from around Mikuni’s waist. “It is late.” He mumbles, standing to go sit on the windowsill again.

The former smiles tranquilly, as if the other’s remark was something much more meaningful. “It is.” Mikuni agrees, lying back down. He leaves his head tilted on its side and facing his servamp, watching as Jeje sits and observes the night sky, moonrays dripping from his eyelashes to his cheeks as if they’re tears.

**Author's Note:**

> i was listening to patchwork staccato when i finished writing, hence the title


End file.
